


Seventeen

by RubyFiamma



Category: Gangsta. (Manga)
Genre: First Love, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 07:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4469726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyFiamma/pseuds/RubyFiamma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yang finally gets the nerve to tell Delico what he’s wanted to say to the other boy for years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seventeen

**Author's Note:**

> For [youhavebeentraceyd](http://tmblr.co/m9ik8UxHa0At7CiaLLO2eIA) based on **[this](http://youhavebeentraceyd.tumblr.com/post/125398605081/idk-if-youd-call-it-a-headcanon-or-not-but-im)** post.

**Seventeen**

* * *

 

Yang is seventeen when he finally thinks to tell Delico; after a close call the day before and shortly after realising that Delico is a _Twilight._ Yang knows Delico isn’t going to be around for a long time and he realises there isn't going to beenough time with him.

He’s always known, possibly since he was in his early teens, that the way he felt about Delico was different. He felt the shift; the way his heart raced and his stomach fluttered every time Delico smiled or tipped in too close; how thinking of Delico was as often as he needed to take a breath and that the idea of some day being without him became his greatest fear.

So one night he sneaks into Delico’s room and he knows that the other is awake; he hasn’t really slept through the night since Erica was taken. It comes as no surprise, when the amber light of the hallway floods the room, that Delico is sitting propped up against his pillows flipping through a book. Yang’s intrusion doesn’t seem startle the other either. It shouldn’t really, they’ve been sneaking into each other’s rooms after dark for years.

“Hey,” Yang whispers a little too loudly, his heart is thrumming hard against his chest like a war drum; it’s so _loud_ and he only _hopes_ Delico can’t hear it.

“Hey,” Delico answers back, but he’s not nervous like Yang is and so his octave is barely above a whisper. He sets the book down against the sheets, shifts to the side in what Yang knows as an invitation but Yang can’t seem to make it out of the doorway.

“I have to tell you something,” he says, and his palms begin to sweat, slick the doorknob to the bedroom door in wet heat.

At this, Delico looks puzzled, even pushes his yellow-bathed hair back so Yang can see the light reflect off the sparkle of blue in his other eye. “O-okay?”

Yang opens his mouth several times, but shuts it just as quick, until Delico’s shoulders have tensed and his eyebrows are knitting pensively and Yang realises he’s making the other worry far more than he needs to. So, “I love you,” is what he blurts out in a rush of hot air. He’s almost ready to slam the door shut, and probably would have if Delico hadn't started to laugh. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks through a chuckle. “I thought we were getting too old for that.”

Yang smiles at this, Delico is right. Since Erica has been gone, they've made it a point to tell the other at least a goodbye each time they're apart, which hasn't been many times at all considering they're near inseparable. But it's more than just that; it's something stems from cold nights spent in the orphanage, having someone to hold as they fall asleep at night, letting each other know that they're at least loved by somebody. This is different from that kind of love, Yang knows this. He can feel it when it aches heavy in his chest whenever he thinks of life without the other.

"No," Yang answers, shaking his head. "No, I'm... I'm _in_ love with you." He says it fast and rushed, so quick that it comes out in a slur and the only emphasis is a gasping hiccup because he's realised that he can't take it back now that he's said it — and what if Delico doesn't feel the same and what if —

"Oh," Delico responds, and Yang sees a gleam of white as the other's teeth catch at his lower lip. "Well... I love you too."

Yang's heart skids to a stop, suspended in animation and he can't seem to remember how to breathe. He opens his mouth but he can't add sound to words and his stomach is swooping like the floor is falling out from under his bare feet. "R-really?" he finally manages, not sure if he should take a step in or flee back to his room.

Delico's features have softened some but Yang can't really tell if the other understands what it is that he means, especially when he says, "Sure. I always have."

There's a starburst of heat that flares across Yang's cheeks as he suddenly becomes hyper-aware of the way Delico's eyes glow with fondness and the plush pink of his mouth falls soft into a smile. He still can't get a read on Delico, but Yang's skin is flushed hot and burning and his pulse is flickering too fast for coherence anyway. So, "Oh," is what he says as he takes a step back into the hallway. "Good," is what he laughs as he begins to close the door. "See you in the morning then," he finally blurts when he's no longer caught in Delico's amber gaze.

"'Night, Yang," Delico calls. The words hit Yang's ears in a voice that's wrapped in smooth silk and he has to shut the door immediately before he makes himself look any more strange, or before the nagging urge to close the space between the frame and the bed and crush his mouth against Delico's becomes a reality he can't take back.

Not that he'd want to anyway.

Yang is seventeen when he thinks to tell the boy he's been best friends with for many years that he's in love with him and he's seventeen when that boy finally tells him _I love you_ back.


End file.
